Everything But the Kitchen Sink
by Firinn3
Summary: A truly awful P/C adventure. If it's happened in fanfic more than once, it's in here.
1. Chapter 1

Dr. Beverly Crusher knew something was up as soon as she entered Will Riker's quarters. She caught the hastily hidden smirks as she raked her dazzling blue gaze around the room. The thought that her closest friends were plotting something she was not a party to really got her ire up.

Her flaming red hair mirrored the fiery temper she held in check as she took her seat at the poker table. She was angry, bordering on irate, and downright miffed that she hadn't been included in the fun.

Commander Riker's blue eyes gleamed as he glanced at Deanna Troi.

Troi, sensing the irritable red-head's ire, winked at her non-Betazoid-Imzadi-lover. Knowing, that as a red-head, Beverly was prone to bouts of quarrelsome and combative behaviour for no apparent reason, the two lovers assumed this was the case this evening; they could not know how wrong they were.

"So," Beverly tersely began. "How is everyone tonight?"

"I am functioning within acceptable parameters, Doctor," replied Data.

Smothering a smile, Geordi coughed before adding, "I'm fine too."

"The battle on the card table has not yet begun," intoned Worf. "It will be a glorious tale sung in Sto-Vo-Kor when I crush you weaklings under my boot."

Glancing at Riker, Worf belatedly growled, "Sir."

Deanna smiled at her best friend and began, "Beverly, I can sense some strong emotions…"

Kicking her friend under the table, Beverly interrupted, "Don't you dare go there, Deanna!" Spreading the heat of her gaze around the room, she pinned each person to the bulkhead. "I am not going to talk about it right now. This is something I have to work out on my own."

Rubbing her injured shin, Deanna smiled at the ease with which Beverly gave vent to her rage. Smiling back, Beverly added in whisper only Deanna could hear, "But if you meet me in Ten Forward after our shift tomorrow, I'll spill the beans over some ooey gooey chocolate."

Giggling, Deanna assured her friend she'd be there.


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Jean-Luc Picard was unaware that his glorious breakfast companion was speaking. His mind had wandered; all over her body and back into his bedroom.

"Jean-Luc?" Beverly called. "Jean, baby?"

Startled by her hand on his, he jolted back into the present and blushed profusely as his hazel eyes made contact with her blue orbs.

Clearing his throat, he replied, "Erm, yes?"

Playfully tossing her napkin at him, Beverly pouted, "You haven't heard a word I've said!"

Using his cup of coffee as a delaying tactic, the captain of the _USS Enterprise_ tried to diplomatically diffuse the situation. Smiling over the rim of his cup he countered, "I heard every word, Doctor. I just didn't process each one to the extent that I was able to comment on them."

Hoping she would accept this, he continued, "Would you mind repeating the salient points?"

Not assuaged in the least, Beverly decided to get even with her humourless breakfast partner. Eyes glinting, she began, "Jean-Luc, there's something I've been meaning to tell you for the past nine months."

Hot coffee sprayed across his quarters as Beverly explained, "I impregnated myself with your sperm after your last physical. I wanted to share a closer bond with you, but I was too afraid to talk to you about it.

"Last night I gave birth to twins. I didn't know if you would want babies with me, so I gave them away. You'll never have to know anything about them. I hope you don't hate me."

Picard stared at her in stunned disbelief until he belatedly realized she was joking. "That. Was. Not. Funny," he intoned in his most serious captain voice.

Holding her sides while wiping tears from her eyes, Beverly responded, "Oh yes, it was."

Still shaking, she added, "You really need to lighten up. Where's your sense of humour?"

Tugging on his uniform top, Jean-Luc replied, "It is a well-known fact that I do not possess a sense of humour. It has been documented in my Starfleet record."

Sniffing, he added, "I would appreciate you keeping that in mind."

Heading for the door, Beverly turned around and offered him a mock salute, "Aye, sir."

Deciding not to bring her up on charges for insubordinate behaviour, Jean-Luc began to clear away the dishes before heading to his duty shift on the bridge.


	3. Chapter 3

"Riker to LaForge," Riker whispered into his comm badge as Picard strode onto the bridge.

"LaForge here," came Geordi's disembodied reply.

"The bald eagle has landed."

"Aye, sir," Riker could hear the smile in Geordi's voice. "Beginning phase one of Operation Contrive-A-Stupid-Way-To-Force-The-Two-Most-Obtuse-People-In-The-Universe-To-Confront-Their-Obvious-Feelings-For-One-Another."

Riker shook his head, thinking he never should have allowed the crew to vote on the code name for the senior staff's latest escapade. Quite frankly, he was surprised that name had won out over such early favourites as, "Operation Let's Get It On," and "Operation Bow Chicka Bow Bow."

Still, anything was better than Barclay's suggestion of, "Operation Grilled Lemon Pickles on Ice." Riker shuddered; afraid to think about the sort of sick fantasy world Barclay had explored prior to offering that name.

"Are you well, Number One?" Picard asked as he took his seat.

"Yes,sir." Thinking quickly, Riker replied, "I was just reliving our last visit with Lwaxana Troi."

Picard tried not to cringe at the memory. "Indeed," he commiserated.

Picard then promptly turned his attention to the starfield streaking by on the main viewscreen.

Chuckling softly as he tampered with the controls in the shuttlecraft, Lt. Commander Geordi LaForge couldn't help but wistfully wish someone cared enough about him to trap him in a shuttle with a beautiful woman.

Sighing, Geordi turned to his companion, "Data, could you pass me the revised flux capacitor?"

Leaving the panel he was currently working on, the android moved to hand the long, glowing tube to the chief engineer.

"Geordi," queried Data. "You have sighed sixteen times in the past fourteen minutes. That is a thirty-two percent increase from your usual rate of exhalation."

Tilting his head to better study his friend, Data added, "Are you troubled?"

Sighing, again, Geordi replied, "No, Data. I'm not troubled. I was just thinking about my own love life, or lack thereof."

"Ah," said Data, nodding sagely. "I understand. You wish you could engage in sexual intercourse with an actual, living person on a more frequent basis. My study of human physiology indicates that most humans tend to want…"

"Data," Geordi interrupted. "Thanks, but I don't really want to discuss it right now."

Blinking Data replied, "That is fine. Please let me know when you wish to discuss this further and I will make myself available. I have accessed several files that I think would add a great degree of meaning and complexity to our discussion."

"Great," Geordi muttered. "So how about you hand me that capacitor now?"

The two friends continued to sabotage the shuttle in a companionable silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Deanna Troi sat at a table near the viewport nursing a hot chocolate, waiting for her friend to arrive. She tried to relax, but she was responsible for phase two of the operation and her nerves were on edge.

Glad her friend wasn't an empath, she looked up as Beverly strode through the doors of the lounge. Ten Forward was reasonably busy, as many people had stopped by for some relaxation, but most conversations dwindled as Beverly Crusher entered the room.

Tall, beautiful, with endless legs, Beverly moved with the grace of a dancer. Tonight she wore a tattered linen sack covered in purple and gold sequins. The rough weave of the thigh-length sack highlighted the black tights and Mary Janes that clothed her lower body. Her hair was done up in a loose roll, complete with the obligatory wisps that needed to be constantly tucked behind her ear.

Taking a seat across from her friend, Beverly leaned back and turned her gaze to the viewport. Sighing, she rolled her shoulders, closed her eyes, and slumped into the curve of the chair.

"Rough shift?" asked Deanna after the waiter brought a round of drinks.

Rousing herself, Beverly took a sip of her drink and smiled, "Not really." Gesturing out the viewport at the green and orange sphere, she continued, "Preparing everything for the upcoming mission was a bit onerous, that's all."

"I'm sure the mission will be fine," Deanna assured her friend.

"It's not the mission I'm worried about," Beverly answered in return.

"Oh?" inquired Deanna, empathic senses tingling.

Raising her arms in surrender, Beverly acquiesced, "I'm not worried about the mission; I'm worried about the pilot."

"Surely you don't doubt the Captain's ability to safely pilot the shuttle?" Deanna was concerned at this turn of events.

"No," Beverly shook her head. "It's not his skill. It's him." Seeing the continued puzzlement on her friend's face, she exasperatedly added, "I'm worried about spending so much time alone with him."

Realization dawned on the counsellor, and she had to fight the wave of giddiness that accompanied it. The misgivings Beverly had just shared were playing right into the group's plans.

"Beverly," Deanna said as she reached for her drink. "You already spend a lot of time with him. What is so different about this situation?"

Tired, Beverly struggled to find an answer that would satisfy her nosy companion. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed, "I don't know."

Not meeting her friend's eyes, she lamely continued, "Maybe it's because he's so reserved. What if he's boring?"

Deanna rolled her eyes, "Beverly, if you found him boring, I highly doubt you would spend as much time alone with him as you do."

Smiling in agreement, Beverly replied, "I guess you're right. I'm worrying for no reason."

Deanna nodded, "Yes, you are."

Deanna quickly gulped down her remaining drink and stood up. Looking down at her puzzled friend, she said, "Let's go for a walk."

"What?" A look of disbelief crossed Beverly's face, "You want to go for a walk? Now?"

Deanna nodded, "Yes. Now."

"But I just sat down!" Beverly replied, trying to hide her anger.

"Trust me," Deanna said, trying to sound as persuasive as possible. "It will be very worth your while."

Grumbling as she stood, Beverly followed her diminutive friend out of the lounge muttering, "It had better be."

* * *

"Riker to Picard."

"Picard here," replied Picard as he set down his glass of Chateau Picard and book of Shakespearean sonnets.

"Sorry to bother you now that you're off-duty, sir," Riker's voice filled Jean-Luc's quarters. "But there seems to be a problem with the shuttle for tomorrow's mission."

Concerned, Picard responded, "Is it serious, Number One?"

"Not serious enough to cancel the mission, but you might want to check it out for yourself, sir," Riker replied, trying to keep the smile out of his voice.

"I'll be right there," Picard stood and tugged at the hem of his green silk shirt. "Picard out."

Riker grinned as he made his way to the shuttle bay. Now if only Deanna could fulfil her part…

* * *

Beverly and Deanna strolled around the corner of the corridor and almost bumped into Riker and Picard at the entrance to the shuttle bay.

Surprised, but not unhappy to see them, Picard said, "It's a good thing you're here. Commander Riker says there's a problem with the shuttle."

Looking directly at Beverly, Jean-Luc continued, "Doctor, you might wish to join us to make sure your medical supplies haven't been affected."

Nodding their agreement, the two women followed the men into the cavernous bay.

Shortly after helping Beverly double check the medical supplies, Deanna Troi excused herself from the group. She had done her part in getting the red-head onto the shuttle, now it was Will's job to ensure they were left alone.

* * *

"So, you see, sir" Riker continued. "Geordi and Data kept getting these readings as they prepared the shuttle earlier."

Thoroughly engrossed in the mystery, Picard nodded, "Yes, I can see where this would seem to be a puzzling anomaly."

Hoping Picard had taken the bait, Riker almost sighed with relief when his captain continued speaking.

"I think the best course of action would be to take the shuttle out for a quick spin," said Picard. "That will be the most efficient way to determine the cause of these readings."

Resisting the urge to pump his fist in the air, Riker solemnly replied, "If you think that's best, sir."

"I do, Number One," Picard said as he gestured toward the back of the shuttle. "If you wouldn't mind sealing the hatch on your way out, I'll begin the launch preparations."

"Aye, sir," Riker smiled as he exited the co-pilot's seat.

"Oh, and Commander," Picard added. "You can tell Doctor Crusher she's free to go. She's off duty and doesn't need to be a part of this – it's just a routine flight."

Inwardly cursing, Riker replied, "Aye, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

Entering the aft compartment, Riker found Beverly Crusher sitting on top of a box of medical supplies.

Looking up, Beverly inquired, "Is everything alright?"

Nodding, Riker replied, "Yes. The Captain wants to take the shuttle out for a test flight, just to be sure."

Maintaining his poker face, Riker continued, "He asked me to tell you he'd like you to remain on board to make sure nothing happens to the medical supplies."

Raising her eyebrows, Beverly looked around her, "Will, these things are secured so tightly I doubt even a direct phaser blast would shift them."

Riker shrugged as he prepared to close the hatch, "Don't blame me, I'm just following the Captain's orders."

Sighing, Beverly prepared to belt herself into the rear compartment seat.

* * *

Following proper procedures, Captain Jean-Luc Picard skilfully directed the shuttle through a series of basic manoeuvres as it orbited the planet below. Satisfied that all systems were functioning normally, Picard informed the bridge that he would be taking the shuttle on a short trip out of the star system to test its warp engines. After confirming a course and heading, Picard engaged the warp drive.

"Warp one," he reported as he checked the readouts. "All systems fine."

"Increasing to warp two," Picard uttered crisply.

"Warp two point five," he continued.

"Warp thr…" he stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed an orange light blinking ominously on the display.

"Mon Dieu!" he swore as the shuttle suddenly careened out of control. Fighting to regain control, Picard called out, "_Enterprise_, this is shuttle seven, I have lost helm control."

Still fighting to bring the shuttle to rights, Picard swore once again as everything suddenly went black. "Merde!" he cursed as he futilely pounded on the control surfaces. Aside from life support and emergency lighting, the shuttle was hanging dead in space.

Knowing the _Enterprise_ would be along to collect him, Picard sat back and prepared to wait. Closing his eyes, he began a series of Vulcan mind-centering techniques.

Picard was startled to hear the door to the aft compartment swish open.

Suddenly a somewhat frightened, and rather angry, red-head threw herself into the co-pilot's seat demanding, "Jean-Luc, what the hell is going on? Are you trying to kill me?"

Shocked, but unable to ignore the way her linen 'dress' rode up her thighs, Picard said the first thing that came to mind, "What the devil are you doing here? I thought I told…"

Beverly cut him off before he could finish, "What do you mean, 'what am I doing here'? I was ordered to stay with the medical supplies."

"But," Jean-Luc replied, still distracted by the pair of legs so tantalizingly close to his own.

Sighing, Beverly said, "Jean-Luc, I can understand wanting to make sure the supplies were secure, but did you really need to toss the shuttle around like that?"

"Beverly," he began. "There's something wrong with the shuttle. It wasn't me."

Smiling, Beverly replied, "Ah, 'tis a poor man who blames his equipment, Jean-Luc."

Misunderstanding, Jean-Luc defended himself, "No, really Beverly. There's a malfunction in the shuttle. I swear."

Looking deeply into her sapphire eyes, he added, "I would never arbitrarily put your life at risk."

Patting his hand, she replied, "I know, Jean-Luc. I know." Looking around the dark cockpit, she asked, "So, what do we do now?"

Leaning back in his chair, he answered, "I sent a message to the _Enterprise_ before we lost power. She should be along shortly to pick us up."

* * *

"Damn you!" The companionable silence was interrupted by a sudden shout, "Will Riker and Deanna Troi, I'm going to kill you both!"

Startled by the vehement outburst, Jean-Luc turned to look at his companion, "Beverly, what on earth?"

Fuming, she replied, "Don't you see it?" She ran a hand through her hair, "Those two set us up!"

"This," she gestured at the black panel, "This whole thing is an elaborate scheme to get us to confess our feelings for each other."

Suddenly very still, Jean-Luc quietly asked, "Feelings? You have feelings for me?"

Still irate over the stunt her 'friends' had pulled, Beverly responded without thinking, "You're missing the point, Jean-Luc. What really matters right now is getting back on board the ship and slowly murdering those two busybodies."

Unable to leave the matter alone, Jean-Luc grabbed Beverly's hands and forced her to look at him, "Beverly, do you," he paused, working up the courage to continue. "Do you, have feelings for me?"

Despite the shadowy interior, Beverly could clearly see the emotions flitting across Jean-Luc's face: fear, anxiety, hope, love, dread. She could read each as clearly as the pages of one of his well-read books. He was laying his heart open before her, and the intensity of his emotions shocked her.

Pulling her hands away, and looking out the forward viewport, Beverly began to nervously pick at the sequins braided into the hem of her outfit. She had kept her feelings for Jean-Luc hidden for over twenty years now, and she had resigned herself to keeping them hidden forever. They had been in many other, stranger, rougher, and more dangerous situations than this, and she had never told him how she felt.

Somehow this situation was different. She didn't understand how that could be the case, but something about this contrived setting was screaming for her to be honest and tell Jean-Luc all the things she had been afraid to say.

Blithely casting away twenty years of doubts, fears, and baggage, Beverly turned to the man she loved and said, "Jean-Luc, I do have feelings for you."

Audibly gulping, Jean-Luc took her hands once again and nodded for her to continue.

Sighing, Beverly took one hand and ran it down his cheek as she said, "I have been in love with you for quite some time."

Hardly daring to believe what he had heard, Jean-Luc opened his eyes to see silent tears streaming down Beverly's cheeks.

"Ah, ma cherie," he sobbed. "Please don't cry."

Placing his hands on either side of her head, he slammed it forcefully into the control panel in an uncontrollable fit of rage brought on by the knowledge that all these years of torment could have been avoided (oops, sorry – that should read: he gently wiped the tears away).

"My darling Beverly," he began, "I have loved you from the moment I saw you. Only when I am with you do I feel complete. You are my love, my life, my soul."

Crying, Beverly replied, "Oh, Jean, my baby. I love you more than life itself. I need you like I have never needed anyone else in my life."

Getting down on one knee, Jean-Luc gazed into the eyes of his dream and said, "Beverly, ours is a very complex relationship; one that should take years of talking, hard work, and cathartic tears to develop into something that includes physical intimacy." Seeing her nod in agreement, he continued, "However, I suggest we throw all caution to the wind, ignore everything that has come before, and simply live together – happily ever after."

"Oh, Jean-Luc," Beverly cried in a breathless whisper. "What are you saying?"

"Beverly," he smiled. "Beverly, I am asking you if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife."

Choking back a sob, Beverly replied, "Oh, Jean-Luc! Yes! Yes, I will marry you!"

Beverly sank to her knees in front of Jean-Luc, and brought her hands up behind his head. Searching his puffy, red, tear-stained face, she didn't see the runny nose or sweaty forehead; she saw only love.


	6. Chapter 6

The captain and doctor were oddly quiet as they made their way down the corridor. Riker and Troi followed at a discreet distance, wondering just what had occurred on the shuttle. Unable to read their emotions, Deanna shrugged at Riker's unspoken inquiry.

"Number One," came the crisp command from Picard.

"Yes, sir?"

Without turning to look at the officers trailing behind him, he said, "I want you to call a meeting of all the senior officers in ten minutes."

"Sir?" Riker was puzzled.

Picard stopped so suddenly Riker and Troi almost bumped into him. His gaze inscrutable, he repeated, "Ten minutes. And, I expect everyone to be in uniform."

* * *

Gathered in the observation lounge, Jean-Luc Picard allowed his piercing gaze to linger on each member of his senior staff until they squirmed.

Projecting his intense aura of command, while keeping tight rein on his prodigious anger, he demanded, "Just what the hell is going on here?"

Five guilty faces looked away from the fuming bald man at the head of the table. They had all meant well. Each officer sitting at the table had witnessed countless moments in the relationship between the captain and doctor and had wanted nothing more than to go over, slap one of them, and shout, "Shut up and kiss, for chrissakes!"

It wasn't until they had banded together that they had found the courage to help the couple along. Although, based on the suppressed rage in Picard's eyes, things had not worked out as planned.

Realizing it could mean the end of all their careers, for sabotage was a court martialable offence, Riker did the only honourable thing he could.

Standing stiffly at attention, he said, "Captain Picard, I take responsibility for everything. The other officers were acting solely under my direction, and should not be held responsible."

Stifling the protests from Worf, Data, Geordi, and Troi with a glance, Picard turned his penetrating gaze on his first officer.

"And what," he asked in an icy whisper, "possessed you to embark upon an act of such colossal folly?"

Envisioning his career rapidly going super nova, Riker resisted the urge to smile as he replied, "Aliens made me do it."

* * *

"Aliens?"

"Yes, Sir," Riker replied, "Aliens."

Nodding once, and tugging on his uniform top, Picard addressed Riker, "Well then, Number One. That explains everything."

Unsure of where the Captain was going with this line of conversation, Riker risked a glance at Picard, "Sir?"

"Since you were obviously under the influence of an unknown alien force, I suggest you go with Dr. Crusher immediately and get yourself checked out in Sickbay."

Looking at the doctor, he continued, "Doctor, this alien life form must be unlike anything we have encountered before as it was completely undetectable by our transporters or security protocols."

Blue eyes glittering in anticipation, Beverly nodded.

Picard went on, "I expect you to run a thorough diagnostic on Commander Riker. We need to make sure he is no longer being influenced by these creatures."

Smiling sweetly at Riker, Beverly replied to the Captain, "Don't worry, Captain. I will perform every possible test to confirm Commander Riker's fitness for duty."

Riker gulped as her sweet smile took on an icy malevolence, "I will employ every long and uncomfortable test at my disposal. Rest assured, Captain, that no matter how painful this will be for Commander Riker, I will not stop, nor neglect my duty, to discover the source of the alien influence."

Nodding, Picard replied, "Excellent. Make it so." Looking around the room at the other officers, he said, "Dismissed."

As the stunned officers filed out of the observation lounge, Deanna Troi cast her thoughts towards her lover. He looked over his shoulder as he followed the doctor out, and sent a quick thought to his beloved, "You know, for a man with a reputation for having no sense of humour, he seems to have a remarkably dark and twisted one."

Trying not to laugh, Deanna Troi silently wished Will Riker good luck with his upcoming adventure in Sickbay.

* * *

Walking stiffly out of the turbolift, determined not to show weakness in front of the crew, Will Riker approached his chair and gingerly sat down.

Without taking his eyes off the computer panel in his arm rest, Picard inquired, "Everything alright, Number One?"

Gritting his teeth, Riker replied, "Yes, sir."

"And the doctor gave you a clean bill of health?" he asked.

"Yes, sir." Suppressing a groan, Riker replied, "She was… very… thorough."

"Excellent," he smiled.


End file.
